Dealer
by oh i'm flying
Summary: Some people have always been sheltered, and some people have been tormented their entire lives. But when a person from one meets a person from the other, they each face challenges they could never imagine.
1. Early Losses

**Dealer**

**Chapter 1**

I was hardly more than 10 years old when I started working in my family's shop and store on Coruscant. Well, at that time, it was Imperial Center. I tended to the counters and tidied the store, sometimes amuzing myself with mind puzzles or hand games when I was bored. I was exceptionally adept at ball and stick, tossing the little round sphere into the air and spearing it on the wooden handle before the string it was attatched to could be pulled taut.

I was a child born under the oppressive times of the Galactic empire; and while inside I harbored bitter feelings towards the dictatorship I had submitted to the fact that I would simply have to live with it for all of my life. I had only been working for about a week the first time one of the emporer's liaisons entered the store, to pick up a part that had been dropped off for service. I had stuttered and stumbled so badly that my mother had to come and take over, searching for the part and kindly taking the credits. My father had a reputation as one of the most skilled workers who was still self-employed, but these were hard times and he had to embrace the patronage of the Empire rather than fear it. I suppose, at the end of the day, he only wanted to put food on the table for my mother and Siira, my sister, and myself.

When I was 15 I fancied myself a bit of a philosopher. Instead of pursing games of ball and stick and drawing bantha herds on scraps of paper, I was scribbling ideas, reading works, and meditating as I sat tiredly at the counter. I think my thought worried my family a bit, because my father soon decided it was time for me to start in the shop. I had careful, skilled hands, and I was able to make fine repairs on speeders and other aircraft that my father wasn't. Working side-by-side, we were envied by most of the shops in our district for our ability to repair anything, and often received ship-ins from mechanics who weren't able to do certain work or for jobs so specialized droids couldn't handle them.

Siira was 20 years old when she was married to a commander in the Imperial Fleet. I suppose, it was good for her, she had never been an assertive girl, happy to do as she was told. He was a well-off young man, and I hoped that she would be taken care of. As I fixed the veil on her white wedding gown, I silently prayed the best for her. She was my sister, and I cared about her. '_Don't worry, I'll be fine! We'll see each other all the time!_' she had insisted, kissing the top of my head and hugging me. That was the last day I ever saw her.

I was years beyond my 18 years when my father was taken from us. I'm not sure I'll ever forget the day that the storm troopers burst into our shop, armed with blasters and shouting like savages. I had my hands in the engine of a speeder bike, my father working on a piece of an imperial fighter. 'Let's go.' What looked like the leader of the squad demanded, bumping his blaster against my father's back. The man who I had long regarded as one of the strongest in the galaxy quietly obliged, dropping his tools so they could cuff his hands. I'm still not sure what they arrested him for. I've heard rumors that the Emporer had grown jealous and wanted my father's talents for his own use, and I've heard rumors that my father was thrown in prison. I shook in fear as they led him past me, and he looked at me, mouthing 'Take care of your mother.' I nodded, losing my grip on the work I had been doing. A sharp piece gouged into my hand, bright red blood spurting freely from the wound. I bled for my father, for Siira, and for what my life had become.

On my 19th birthday the empire fell. In what was widely regarded as a popular move, Mon Mothma was made chancellor of the New Senate, and I had to say I agreed. I penned a letter of cheerful support, signing my name to it and dropping it in the mail.

It was the day after my 19th birthday, and I was standing at the counter of the store. My mother had broken down with some sort of illness – inevitable, really, from the sheer stress we had both been under. Buisness was slow, and I ran my thumb over the three-inch scar that curved from the knuckle of my index finger to the side of my hand, almost respectively, before returning to another game of ball and stick.

"Hello?" A voice asked. I turned my head, the ball still landing as perfectly on the stick as when I had mastered the game years ago.

"Can I help you?" I asked, trying to sound cheerful.

"Uhm, yes. I'm looking for a speeder bike. Do you sell them here?"

"Oh, erm…" I bit my lip in thought. There was one, a previously scrappy piece of junk that I had picked up for next to nothing. The repairs were almost complete, and with a new paint job among various other improvements it certainly wasn't scrappy looking anymore. "There is one."

"Great!" The young man replied enthusiastically. His eyes sparkled like a young child's, and that's the first time that I noticed those eyes – they were bright blue, and they were honest. "How much?"

"Don't you want to see it first?" I asked cautiously. He flushed.

"Oh, er – yeah."

"Ok…" I said, nodding and giving him a sideward glance, going through the door on the back wall into the shop. Parked in the back behind a partition, the bike hovered several inches across the stone floor, emitting a gentle hum. It was painted a bright blue, and I had affectionally named it Tergaé II, after my father. I'd stenciled the name on the side in white with pride. The machine gleamed under the harsh shop lights. I rubbed my hands together, trying to loosen some of the grease from under my nails.

"This is it." I said, unable to hold back a touch of pride in my voice. "It still needs a bit of work, but I could have it done in two standard days if you leave a deposit. 500 credits towards a total price of 3000."

"Done." The man snapped before he or I could think twice. Wow, this kid was quick!

"OK, if you'll come back into the store I have a form I need you to fill out." I said, turning around to go back.

"You don't need me to fill out any forms."

I stopped. The way he said it made it sound a believable, albeit still ridiculous, but I had been doing this since I was 10. Yeah, right, nice try.

"No, I really do." I said, continuing in. He followed me silently, waiting and watching as I shuffled under the counter for the appropriate paperwork. I whipped a data board from under an empty bottle of blue milk and a defunct datapad that had once delivered the 'Galactic Update'. Picking up the pen attatched to it, I filled out my name and some basic information. "Here." I pushed the pad across the table to him. "Can you fill out your name and contact information?"

He surveyed me briefly, taking the tablet and writing in the information. Then he dug in his trousers, pulling out a billfold and counting out five 100-credit bills. The way he was dressed struck me as odd, and I had failed to notice it until now. A pair of loose cotton pants, and boots that reached his knees, and a layered tunic with a long dark robe over it all. It registered somewhere in the back of my mind, but for the life of me I couldn't determine where. I took the pad back, looking at it. Luke Skywalker. That, too, clicked, but I didn't know why.

"All right, Luke." I said happily, printing out a small receipt. "I should have this ready in two days, but I'll call you if I finish sooner."

"All right! Thank you very much!" He said, clasping my hand in his and shaking it. I watched him leave through the door, still wondering why I knew that name as I retreated to finish working on the speeder.


	2. It Could Never Work

**Dealer**

**Chapter 2: It Could Never Work**

It was the next evening, when I had myself soaked up to my wrists in the speeder's engine oil, that I recognized Luke. He had been the boy on the holotube, the boy responsible for the fall of the empire and fall of Vader and the Emporer. And he was wearing the attire of a Jedi.

Mention of the Jedi was banned during the times of the Empire, but I remember my father whispering stories of the times before Palpatine to Siira and me as younglings, curled up under the covers of our bunk beds. I smiled fondly, remembering back when we had been a family. It was only a spurt of oil growing up to hit my square in the face that jolted me back to reality. I curled my face unpleasantly, groping blindly inside the speeder, my eyes clamped shut as I tried to stop a flow. An unfamiliar, large, rough had bumped next to mine, and the flow stopped. I tried to wipe the oil from my eyes with my bare forearm.

"Here…" Luke's voice said, and I heard a loud clanging as he searched for a shop rag or something. I suppose he recognized then how lazy I am because all of my rags were soaked in oil or some kind of gross auto substance. A moment later a wad of soft cotton fabric was pressed into my face, and I pulled my other hand from the engine, blotting my eyes. A moment later I was able to blink them open, and I looked at the young man in front of me, still wiping the black substance from my face. Then I realized what I was wiping my face with.

"Oh!" I exclaimed. "I'm sorry!" I shook his outer tunic out as best I could, but it was still covered in grease and splotchy oil marks.

"Don't worry about it." He insisted, motioning off-handedly. "I have like a million of those things."

I smiled thankfully, smoothing my hair and trying to remove some of the oil from my hairline, to little success.

"So, is this ready to go now?" He asked, slapping the front of the speeder affectionately. I toweled off my right had as best I could, the black tone having penetrated the long scar particularly well, and reached back into the speeder, feeling for a little knob… there. I pulled my hand out, giving the front a solid whack. The engine rumbled to life, buzzing steadily as it hovered up a few inches from the floor.

"That it is." I said, dropping the keys into his palm. "Come on, I'll get you the title."

So we found ourselves in the little front of the store again, and I searched until I found a tiny datapad to arrange for the title transfer. It didn't take long, and soon I handed it over to him. In return, he handed me another 2600 credits.

"Oh, it's only another 2500." I said, peeling off a bill and handing it back to him. He shook his head. "Keep it. I know you pushed to get this done for me."

"No, really, it's OK. It's my job--"

He shook his head, pushing it towards me. I sighed dejectedly, shoving the bill into my pocket. We weren't poor, and mother and I lived a nice lifestyle off of the store and shop.

"Oh, dear, what did you do?" My mother chided, looking at me covered in speeder oil. I rolled my eyes.

"Speeder malfunction, Mother." I explained, waiving my hand as if to brush it off.

"Oh, and who is this charming young man?" She asked. Luke had stood politely when she entered the room. "What have you not been telling me?"

I flushed a bright shade.

"Mother, he's a customer. This is—"

"Luke Skywalker." He cut me off, shaking her hand politely.

"Pleased to meet you, Mister Skywalker."

"Luke bought the Tergaé II, Mother."

"Oh! Well, we're about to close for the night, but I'd love it if you'd join us for dinner, Luke. We're having a bantha roast."

"I would very much like that." He replied, smiling politely.

So we hung the signs and shut off the lights, going to our apartment above the store. It was a place with plenty of space for two of us, as it had once housed a four-person family. I immediately excused myself to clean up. Luke proved himself to be an exceptional guest, and he was entirely at ease around us. I was more comfortable scrubbed and changed, even my hair washed and pinned into a knot. And after we had eaten and my mother had excused herself to bed, I offered to bring Luke back down to the shop.

I sighed sadly, running my hand over the name on the speeder. I had my own bike, and had no use for it, but it was almost like saying a final good-bye to my father.

"Tergaé was your father, wasn't he?" Luke said softly, standing next to me. I nodded silently, biting back tears. "I'm sorry." He said, patting my shoulder. "The empire has caused us all more pain then they would ever care. They killed my aunt and uncle, who raised me, who were like my parents…" And his voice trailed off. "Hey, you want to come for a ride?"

"Oh, no, really, I couldn't, I really should be getting back to mother…" I insisted, starting to back off.

"Oh, come on. You did all the work on it. Let loose. I don't think you have enough fun in your life." There, I couldn't argue with him. Ever since Siira disappeared, and since Father was arrested, I had been forced to grow up much faster than I would have ever cared to. There were bags under my eyes most of the time, and I felt… old; weary. Luke must have known this too, because when all I did was open my mouth soundlessly he grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the bike behind him. He kicked it to life, slowly maneuvering out of the shop, and into the air of Coruscant.

He was a talented pilot, darting quickly through the traffic of the skys. I held myself close to him, afraid to look down but enjoying the freedom of flying. Not long after he pulled down in front of a bar. I shook my head, looking at him as he got off the bike, holding his helmet under his arm.

"No, Luke, I really need to be getting home –"

"Let me buy you a drink. Just one. Come on." He insisted. And as much as I said I didn't, I wanted to, and I did.

The bar was crowded and noisy, but Luke grabbed my hand and pushed his way up to the front. He found two empty seats, letting me sit before he did, raising his hand to the bartender.

"Two FireDancers." He said, sliding a 5-credit note across the counter. The bartender nodded, and soon I found myself sliding a burning, strong beverage down my throat and enjoying it. I enjoyed it so much, that I ordered another one, and it was with a bit of reluctance that I refrained from ordering a third. Luke had indulged in another drink also, but now we were in the air again, cruising around Coruscant.

"I should really get home." I muttered, my head leaning on his shoulder. He nodded, turning abrubtly in the air and heading towards the shop.

"Did you have a good time?" He asked, helping me off the bike just inside the garage. I smiled.

"Yeah. I don't get out much, not since my father…" My voice broke off again. "Not since he was taken by the Empire. He's dead now."

"How do you know?"

I shrugged.

"I don't, really. Just one day I got this… this feeling, and it was like he wasn't there anymore."

Luke sighed.

"Well, maybe we could do this again sometime." He said, pulling me into a hug.

"Maybe." I said, not really believing it. My mother needed me more than anybody else did. He pulled back a bit, looking at me. Our eyes met, blue and brown, like water and earth mixing together. And then he kissed me.

If I can tell you one thing about Luke Skywalker, it would be that he is the nicest, kindest person you will ever know. Secondly, his was the most fabulous kisser. Once, twice, our lips met, and I was honestly enjoying it when I pulled back.

"I'm sorry." I said, touching my hand to my forehead.

"Don't be." He said, looking at me. I avoided his gaze, shaking my head.

"It could never work."

"Why not?" He asked, stepping towards me. I stepped away, tears pooled in the corners of my eyes.

"It just couldn't." I shook my head. "No. Not here. Not now."

"Ok." He said softly, sadly. I gazed at him remorsefully, and he climbed onto his new bike. I retreated back towards the stairs.

"That's because you're Force-strong." He called out. "That's why you knew what happened to your father."

"I'm what?" I said, looking over my shoulder, not sure if I didn't understand what he was saying or if it was the alcohol impairing me. Those things were _good_.

"You're Force-strong. With training, you could become a Jedi."

"Not now." I said softly, turning around again.

"Someday?" He called out, and I knew what he was talking about. I turned around, smiling sadly, and shrugged my shoulders, backing up until I reached the stairs. He kicked the bike to life, leaving me alone in the dark garage as I retreated to my room.

It could never work.


	3. Breaking

_Author's Note: This is a bit intense. It's also a bit short, but I think it's a goodie!_

**Dealer**

**Chapter 3: Breaking**

I was 22 years old.

In the days since that fateful night when I joined Luke Skywalker for a ride on his speeder, a lot had changed. Buisness flourished. A young boy named Ha'yglie was now working with us in the shop, and he was a talented mechanic. I was a young adult with a promising career ahead of me. But something held me back, and that something was my family. I was only 15 with Siira left. I was only 17 when I watched my father be taken prisoner. Like I said back when I was 19, I was old. I felt that I had seen more than any person ever deserved to. I was tired, and I was tied to that little shop.

You know, it wasn't that I didn't like Luke. He was smart, nice, attractive – everything and more than I could every want. It wasn't that I had my eye on somebody else, that I turned and started dating – I hadn't spent a night out since that time I had drinks with the only Jedi on Coruscant. He still patronized our store, stopping in for a drink and religiously having the oil changed every 8 weeks. He always insisted on waiting though, because, as he put it – 'What if you have another oil incident?'. I enjoyed talking to him, and we were friends. Good friends. But, like I said, it could never work.

The day I turned 23 my mother died.

I was numb. I was in shock. Little Ha'yglie didn't know what to do, so I sent him home and told him I would contact him when he should come in again. Then I cried. I cried for my mother, the strongest woman I had ever known, who fought so bravely after my father left. Ultimately, she had died of a broken heart. I cried for Siira, my lovely older sister, who was in the end foolishly weak enough to be manipulated and abused. I cried for my father, my brave, smart, charismatic, talented father, who taught me every trick of the trade and always did his best to provide for his family. And I cried for myself, for every bit of suffering I had endured over the years. I cried for all the pains and tortures that had been forced upon me. I cried because life was unfair, and I had struggled and struggled to be shot down in the end.

I leaned against my own speeder, tears streaking down my cheeks, wetting the hair that was stuck to my face with the sweat of hard work. They rolled off my cheeks, spotting my already dirt clothing and soaking into salty dots. I sniffed loudly, not really caring anymore. The store was closed until I could figure out what to do. Oh, Gods, why? Why me? I just wanted to scream it. What had I done wrong? Was I really the worst person in the universe? Did I do something to **deserve** this sort of suffering? I rocked my knees to my chest, and wept more fiercly than before. As long as tears were coming, I was crying.

"I'm so sorry." A familiar male voice came. I looked up through bleary, swollen eyes, my face moist with my tears. Luke. I quickly counted in my mind. He wasn't due to have his oil changed for another two weeks. I swallowed hard, trying to stop the uncontrollable sobs that seized my chest and lungs again and again. But I couldn't, and salty streaks continued to roll off my face. "Oh Force, I'm so sorry." He said, sitting down next to me on the speeder bike. I just cried and cried, and he just sat there, one arm draped around my shoulders.

He didn't tell me it would be all right. It wouldn't. This was the end of my life as I knew if, and he understood that.

Luke stood with me for my mother's cremation. It was a solemn ceremony, but it was filled with family friends, patrons, business partners. I didn't cry, simply because there weren't any tears left. I wished I could put her ashes with my father's. Two people who had been filled with love and life for their family and each other. Two people who never deserved to be dealt such an ill hand at life.

My nights were filled with terrors. Dreams of my parents, and Siira, haunted every sleeping moment. Alcohol, sleep aids, there was nothing that could ease the mourning I was being put through. I was damned glad I had Luke to just sit there with me. The empty apartment was daunting, and I didn't really know what I was going to do. But not having to be there alone dulled the pain.

He was happy to talk on and on as we sat there. He told me about his sister, Senator Leia Organa, and her frequently insufferable boyfriend Han Solo. He talked about the Jedi, and how the initiates were doing so well with their training. He talked about the friendships he'd formed with all sorts of people simply by working with the government. He helped me with meditation and breathing exercises, two things that were able to bring me a bit of rest. He was in no rush to leave though, and if I drifted off he would sit close by so that when I awoke drenched in a cold sweat, and I always did, he would have a cloth waiting to wipe my forehead.

I was sick in the truest sense of the word. And in the very most definiation of the term, Luke Skywalker was my closest friend. He was nothing more, but I put my life in his hands.

Maybe the reason it would never work was because it already had.


	4. Pride

Can everybody do me a favor and review? Honesty is appreciated, as are constructive critiques. Praise is cool too. Thanks to FurryLittleBantha and elecktrum for your support. Glad you like it!

_I'm looking for a Beta. Email me!_

**Dealer**

**Chapter 4: Pride**

By the time I was 25 I was wise to the ways of the world, a world that continued to push my flat on my rump instead of helping my stand. I was a wheeler, a dealer, a smart, street-savvy young woman who ran her business with a ruthless attitude. The economy was flourishing in the aftermath of the Empire and in the birth of the new Republic. People had a newfound faith in the government and in Coruscant. Now, I had another two hands working in the shop – a middle aged woman named Mariett and a young teenage Twi'lek girl who I simply called Cee, after her futile attempts to teach me her name. Things ran smoothly between the three of us, and they were both well payed and happy.

It was a hot summer day, and I blotted my forehead with a clean rag as I worked on the hyperdrive of a ship that had been brought in for repair. The oil incident had taught me a fair lesson, and I never worked without a pile of washed cloths within an arms reach. I chewed on my lip, sautering a delicate fuse with a tiny welding rod.

"Hello Mister Skywalker!" I called out, as if on cue as Luke walked in the door. Every 8 weeks like clockwork he showed up for his oil change. That much had failed to change. "You can pull in hangar 3." I said, not looking up from my work. "Cee, can you open the door?" She nodded, wiping at her own blue skin with her forearm as perspiration beaded on her forehead. I heard the cranking of the hangar door sliding open and a comfortably familiar hum as Luke maneuvered the speeder into the dock. I finished up my work on the hyperdrive, pulling a few sweating pieces of hair out of my line of sight to go and see Luke.

"How are you?" He said happily, pulling me into a one-armed hug. Touching a dirty, oil-stained version of myself never seemed to bother him – I was a good friend, and he was greeting me as he would anybody. As a result, his tunic was now a mirror image of the snug sleeveless shirt I wore in the summer heat. He didn't give it a second glance. I smiled at him when he released me.

"Oh, coping, coping. And yourself?" I asked, killing the engine on his bike and popping the hood so I could get to work.

"I can't complain."

"Everything's well at the temple, I take it?" I asked, triggering a lever in the oil valve and nudging a pan underneath with my foot to catch the murky-colored liquid that dripped into it.

"Yes. Actually –"

"Sorry to interrupt, but did you notice a difference with the different oil I used last time?" I said, perusing a small shelf of bottles for the correct oil.

"Eh, erm, now that you mention it, yes. It made the engine a little quieter on acceleration."

"Cool." I said, pausing before I realized that I didn't have the oil I needed. "Hey, Cee! Could you grab me a 250 unit bottle of S-35?" The female twi'lek looked up from the hyperdrive she was bent over, finishing the work that I had started early.

"Sure thing!" She called back, disappearing into the front of the store.

"Oh, you were saying?" I said, looking at Luke before grabbing what looked like a dirty rag on a stick and shoving it into the engine.

"Oh! Actually, we're getting ready to have the knighting ceremony at the temple. I was going to talk to you about it today. I was hoping you would be able to come."

"Sounds good. Thank you!" I said, taking the bright blue bottle from Cee and twisting the top off of it. "When?"

"Tomorrow night. I know it's kind of short notice but we only chose a date yesterday."

"Oh, I should be able to make it; we close at 1200 on Natunda anymore." I said, watching the pitch-black oil pour smoothly into the depths of the oil valve, disappearing from sight. "What time?"

"1800 standard." He said.

"Bah, rush hour." I complained. "All right, where is it going to be?"

"In the ceremony hall. It's about two blocks down from the senate; you won't miss it. It's attached to the temple."

"You know, you could probably do this on your own by now; you've seen me do it so many times." I teased gently, crushing the empty bottle with my palm and tossing it towards the garbage. It ricocheted off the side, and I was able to nudge it enough to get it back into the can. Luke laughed, pulling his wallet from in the folds of his tunic and knowing not to mention anything about my use of the Force.

"Yes, but then when would we catch up? 11 times out of 10 I'm always tied up at the Temple and you're up to your neck around here. How much?"

"250 for you, Luke. 300 for anybody else." I sighed, shoving my hands in my pocket and savoring the opportunity to rest. He held out three bills to me, and I checked them to make sure he wasn't trying to slide a tip in there. "Alright, you're good to go. I'll see you tomorrow night, then?"

"Undoubtedly." He said, turning over the engine on the bike. "Bye!"

"Later!" I called as he disappeared out the corner. "Hey, Cee, how's that hyperdrive coming?"

It was a rare occasion that I got to dress up and truly look like a girl. The next day after closing, I hopped in the shower, scrubbing all of the oil and grime from my skin and washing my hair. I changed into a fitted cotton dress and flats, and Cee hung out long enough to weave my long hair into a braided crown. I slipped her a 5-credit bill for her troubles and gave her a glass of Bantha milk with a piece of bread I'd baked that morning before she went home. I looked in the mirror, admiring my reflection. I was perfectly out of place in the outfit, and I twirled around, watching the skirt catch around my legs. I was a mechanic. I was a dealer. And here I was, twirling around in a skirt like a youngling. I stared longingly at my own eyes, wishing for a moment that somebody would bring me a chance to relive my life. That chance never came, however, and soon I was kicking my speeder to life to navigate my way to the ceremony hall.

On a good day, it would have taken me 45 minutes, maybe 40 to get to the Temple. On a bad day, driving hour on a Sunday, when people took their bikes out for leisurely cruises and executives who didn't know the meaning of vacation were heading home, it would easily take me the better part of two hours. I was swearing a blue streak at some sort of male life form who had nearly clipped the side off my speeder, taking my leg along with him, as I lowered myself into a parking place two blocks down from the temple. On solid ground again, I was thankful to still have both of my legs as I prodded around for the entrance to the building. I stopped to examine my reflection in the glass doors, trying a bit futilely to de-frizz a bit of the helmet hair before opening the door.

Immediately I felt awkward. There was a tiny reception in the front hall, and I counted about two dozen people plus another dozen in full Jedi garb. One of the first people I recognized was Leia Organa, from her images on the holo-tube and Luke's whiny description of her trademark Nubian hairstyle. With her was Mon Mothma, the chancellor of the New Republic, and a scruffy-looking tall man who was holding Leia's hand, leading me to assume that he was her fiancé Han Solo. I hid my hands behind my back. I was a worker. What in space was I doing here?

"Hey! Glad you made it!" Luke popped out of nowhere and declared happily, clapping me on the back. I sighed, a bit relieved to hear his familiar voice.

"Yeah. Traffic was a bitch, but I'm here."

"Come on, I want you to meet my sister." He said, grabbing my arm before I could protest and dragging me over to a group. Leia gave me a serene smile, and for some reason it unnerved me. Luke made our introductions, and I was nervous to say the least, bowing respectfully to the Chancellor and Senator.

"You the mechanic Luke is always running off to?" Han asked, cocking an eyebrow at me. I swallowed, freezing.

"Well, uhm—"

"Yes, she is. She's brilliant." Luke said firmly.

"I sold him his speeder and do maintenance on it. Although at this point I'm quite sure Luke could do it himself." I said with a bit of a laugh. Han grinned and nodded.

"Have you ever done any work on a hyperdrive?"

"Oh, yes, all the time! Droids tend to have a lot of problems with them so we have clients bringing them in all the time. I just finished up work on one yesterday. Turns out the combustion fuse was shot – I've never seen that before – and the polarity balance was entirely out of whack. Cee, my shop hand, and I had it up and out in no time though."

"Really? I'm having problems with my ship, the Falcon – maybe you could take a look at it? My first mate is at his wit's end with it."

"No problem! You can drop it off if you want, or I can come out next week – I don't do a lot of commissions, but on Natunda we take early days so I can travel if I have to." I said talkatively, smiling now. At that point Luke had brought over one of the young Jedi, and wanted to make a point of introducing me to Mara Jade. A fiery red-haired young woman who had a few months, maybe a year on me, she had a tongue and a personality and to an extent we clashed. I was fighting to be polite, because Luke seemed so enthusiastic about her and her training, but the other girl and I eyed each other distrustfully the entire time. Soon it was time to start though, and I sighed in relief as Luke and Mara Jade moved away.

It was a solemn ceremony, but solemn like a baptism – filled with joy. As each of the initiates had their braid sliced apart, we clapped politely. Tears pooled in the corners of my eyes, because that could have been me. I could feel a connection to every person in that room, and it made me uncomfortable. I shifted my weight uneasily.

Eventually the lights turned back on and a dozen Jedi knights left the room, followed by the Master Luke Skywalker. His blue eyes clicked with my chocolate ones, and his smiled. I watched those eyes spill over with pride.


	5. Things Change

_Thanks to elecktrum for beta-ing this chapter._

**Dealer**

**Chapter 5: Things Change**

Two years later Luke married Mara Jade. I remember receiving a frilly little invitation in the post, to a ceremony at the Temple hall. I remember Luke downright insisting that I get to be a bridesmaid on his behalf; showing up and feeling just as out of place at the bridal shower. Leia was perhaps my only support through the ordeal, and I think she didn't much approved of Mara Jade either, more than once biting her tongue. I remember the wedding; the ceremony; the vows; the kiss. And it's impossible for me to forget the way I felt as Luke held me in his arms and we moved across the dance floor with more grace, more elegance than any two people had ever shared before. I had to leave, and I bid goodbye to the newlyweds, giving Mara a stiff, one-armed hug and Luke a warm embrace. I wished them luck, and he promised to see me in another five weeks for his oil change.

I had known it could never work. But not everything is what it what you think it is. That night, I cried myself to sleep. And you know what? Luke never came. Maybe he sold his speeder; maybe he switched shops, who knows? He never bothered to show up for his appointment, for the first time in seven years, so with a heavy heart I put a line through his name in the book. I hoped, at first, that maybe he had forgotten, and would comm me the next day. But, the call never came, and I eventually crossed out all his appointments for the year. The last time I heard from him was when he promised to come and see me at that wedding.

So I was 30 years old. I'd dated a little, but not much. I was just as content to sit in my apartment, instead of going out, in my socks and wet hair, eating Gungan Puffs in a bowl of blue milk and watched reruns on the holotube, my lazy cat curled up on my feet; rather than get dolled up to get wasted at a bar. If I wanted something, I would break out the bottles and whip up a FireDancer and numb my memories with that until I could drift into fitful sleep. I hadn't slept well since that wedding, and sometimes I reached the point of exhaustion, collapsing into sleep because of nothing else. I tried to shrug it off. I needed to get on with my life. Luke Skywalker was apparently out of it.

I spent the morning balancing the books in the store. There were another two young people working at the store now, and Cee would be leaving after the end of the next summer to go and study on Yavin IV. It was winter now though, and I had layered my clothing against the cold. The shop was a bit chilly, and I grabbed a smock to cover my clothes as I headed to do some work on the _Falcon_. The huge ship took up six of the ten hangars, but Han was paying us well to fix whatever was wrong with it now that he was hung up so often with Leia and their twins Jaina and Jacen. I banged my way up into the maintenance hold irritably. I was prone to mood swings, which my psychologist told me was due to my 'brutally tragic and tormented past'. Yeah, okay, I had stopped seeing her and turning to meditating whenever I got angry. I didn't have time for that now; I wanted to get this work finished so I could get back into the heated store.

"Hey stranger." a familiar voice commented from below me. I was tucked up in the hold, and I shrieked an obscenity, and then I froze. I knew that voice.

"Luke?" I called, far too fearful to look.

"Yes?" the voice called. I dropped my head out of the door, and soon my body followed. I flipped in the air so I was standing right side up, and I dusted off my hands on my smock, surveying him carefully.

He looked older, more distinguished. He had a bit of a beard, and carried his shoulders with a nobler stance than he had when I had last seen him three years ago. It was extremely awkward, for me, standing there; and soon he pulled me into a hug, dotting the front of his precisely pressed tunic, as he would have in years past.

"Look at you!" he said, his eyes tracing my lanky form. I took a shaky breath. And then my hand collided with his cheek in a resounding slap.

"Don't bullshit me, Skywalker." I informed him. He stood there in a daze, his hand clapped over his reddening skin. "Why are you here?"

"There's a youngling named Kierii. She's not going to be chosen as a Padawan to one of the knights, and I honestly don't think she's cut out for the order. She's good with her hands, and I thought you might consider adopting her. She's 9, she won't be any trouble."

I sighed, and I thought of all the pain and suffering I had been through by the time I was her age, and the large amounts I would endure as I aged. I thought about how my family had been so unfairly seized from me, and how I had missed out on so much in life.

"Sure." I said abruptly. "I'll take her." I paused. "I don't want anybody to have to suffer like I did."

"Alright. Can you come to the Temple tomorrow to meet her?"

"I'l—Yeah. I'll be there." I said, biting my tongue. This little girl had nothing to do with Luke, and I shouldn't take my anger towards him out on her. "Tomorrow at 1800 hours."

"Thanks."

I looked at him

"I'm not doing it for you. You don't have to thank me."

I turned on my heel and started to walk away. He grasped my arm, and I tensed.

"I'm sorry." He said, looking at me. I refused to meet his gaze, ripping my arm from his touch.

"For what, Luke?"

"You know…"

I started down the ramp to the shop.

"Tell me."

He mumbled indistinctly.

"What?"

"For never showing up. For never calling. Mara said she would prefer it if I didn't have anything to do with you anymore."

"Oh, that's really nice." I snapped.

"I didn't have a choice! She made me choose! I'm married to her; I love her!"

I stopped and looked at him, my shoes squealing in protest on the cold stone floor.

"Do you?"

He faltered for just a moment.

"Yes."

"Does she love you?"

The response was slower this time.

"Yes, I do." A defiant voice called from the doorway. Mara Jade stood there in all of her arrogant glory, leaning in the frame of the door. She had witnessed the whole thing as Luke and I bantered back and forth. The way the words rolled off her tongue told me that she was fighting here; and she didn't want to lose.

"Luke." I said, looking at him and shaking my head, "People who love us don't make us choose." He gaped at me as I spun around, marching back towards the _Falcon_.

"You –" I pointed a finger at Mara from the ramp, "Can remove yourself from my property before I have you arrested."

"I'm law enforcement. You can't do that!" She exclaimed indignantly.

I backtracked until I was standing back on the stone floor.

"Then I will forcibly remove you."

"I'd like to see you try." She snarled, her hand going to her hip. The Force surged with my anger.

"Believe me, hon, I have nothing, and I mean **nothing**, left to lose."

It was at this point that Luke managed to coax Mara into leaving, guiding her out the door. I sighed heavily, collapsing to the ground and hugging my knees to my chest on the cold metal ramp of the _Falcon_. I was right – I didn't have anything left.


	6. Full Circle

**Dealer**

**Chapter 6: Full Circle**

"Happy birthday Mom!" a fifteen year old Kierii announced happily, parading into my bedroom with an elaborately wrapped box and a tray of food. The wafting aroma of baked goods hit my nostrils, and I perked up a little, peeking from under the covers. "I made you breakfast. You know it's the most important meal of the day." I looked at her, laughing as she tried to play innocent. The only reason Kierii ever makes pancakes is because she likes to eat the batter. She set the tray down on my cluttered nightstand, handing me my present. I yawned widely, pulling at the paper with sleep-uncoordinated hands. Eventually I got around to prying open the box to find a tiny, hand-carved pendant.

"It's a japor," she explained. "It's for luck."

"That's something I could use," I said, threading the ribbon in the box through the top of the pendant and draping it around my neck. Kierii smiled, and I ran a thumb over the woodwork appreciatively. The former Jedi initiate was a skilled craftsman and talented with her hands, the hard wood was whittled precisely, smoothly into every groove.

"How about breakfast?" She asked, picking up the tray. I eyed it, counting three pancakes total.

"Aren't you going to have any?" I asked, looking at her with an eyebrow raised. She flushed. I sighed. "You ate all the batter again, didn't you?"

She laughed, shrugging.

"Maybe?"

What happened next I felt, and Kierii felt it too: a sudden loss in the Force, a powerful presence that had been there was now gone. It was a maddening echo; a sudden emptiness followed by a sudden rush as it tried to adapt to the drastic change. I had never had any training; and it had been six years since Kierii had trained in the temple, but we both were struck with the sudden blow. Something drastic had just happened.

"That's Master Mara's signature!" Kierii gasped. And then, another surge of grief washed over us. My breath caught in my chest, and I gripped my bed sheet. Oh no.

_Luke._

I sprang out of bed, grabbing the first clean outfit I could find from my closet and shuffling out of my pajamas and into it as fast as I could, traipsing through the apartment and out the door before I had my shirt over my head. I trampled down the steps, crushing my unwashed hair under my helmet and gunning my bike to life, throwing one leg over it.

"Mom! MOM!" Kierii yelled, chasing after me. "What's going on?"

I hesitated, the motor on my bike idling. My adoptive daughter stared at me, confused, her hands defensively on her hips.

"I promise I'll explain it all later."

As I pushed my way through the morning rush, I decided it probably hadn't been a good idea to keep my tumulus past with Mara Jade and the argument that ended my relationship with Luke a secret from my daughter. Now, now, if what I thought had happened happened…

I pulled the keys from my bike before the engine was off, tossing my helmet on the walkway besides it. The tough material scratched across the ground, knocking to a halt besides the machine. Those were two things I would normally never do, and that I threatened Kierii with a month of scrubbing the shop by hand with if she did. By the time I ever reconsidered that I could have melted the engine on my bike or irreversibly damaged my helmet, I had run through the doors of the Temple and straight through the lobby, up the Grand Staircase, and around to the living quarters. It had been a long time, years and years, since I had been in the Temple, and it had been even longer since the only time I had even seen Luke's quarters – the time when he had given me the grand tour of the place. Instinctively, I drew off his painfully acute emotions, leading myself to his door. There I slowed down, catching my breath and attempting to make myself look presentable. I had literally run out of the apartment half-naked, pulling on my shirt, so that was a bit difficult, but I did my best, glancing at my disheveled reflection in the mirror before slowly letting myself into Luke's quarters.

He was sitting on the bed, his head in his hands as he started blindly out the window. He was in shock, utter and unbelievable shock. Unfortunately, I knew exactly how he felt. Walking over to him, I lowered myself gently onto the bed besides him.

"I'm sorry for you," I muttered quietly, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. I felt little grief for Mara Jade, that much was true. She was an evil person with her own agenda, as far as I was concerned, and she had taken away my best friend. But it pained me inside to see this kind, compassionate man reduced to tears. "I'm so sorry."

And I sat there as he let sobs rack his body, resting my chin over his shoulder and smoothing his hair. And, I didn't tell him it would be OK, because when somebody you're close to dies, it never is.

Luke had always been one of the most selfless people I had ever known. He was kind, he was happy, and he always seemed to know exactly the right thing to say. I remembered all those years ago when a similar situation had transpired.

"_I'm so sorry," a familiar male voice came. I looked up through bleary, swollen eyes, my face moist with my tears. Luke. I quickly counted in my mind. He wasn't due to have his oil changed for another two weeks. I swallowed hard, trying to stop the uncontrollable sobs that seized my chest and lungs again and again. But I couldn't, and salty streaks continued to roll off my face. "Oh Force, I'm so sorry," he said, sitting down next to me on the speeder bike. I just cried and cried, and he just sat there, one arm draped around my shoulders._

I sighed internally. Things had certainly changed. And everything comes full circle.

"She was – she was…" His words were punctuated by sobs, "On a mission. In the outer rim. I should have been there, but the younglings were starting with the lightsaber training and I had promised I could be there." He shook his head angrily. "I should have been there! And I felt something was wrong, I felt it, and I went for my comlink… and then she disappeared." He shook his head, searching for words, choking over them and they eventually came in a whisper. "She was pregnant."

I had to contain my gasp.

"She was so stubborn. She wouldn't stay here. And now they're both gone."

Luke buried his head in my shoulder, soaking my shirt with tears. His comlink beeped on the bed.

"This is Jedi Knight Terain reporting to Master Skywalker. Come in, Master Skywalker."

I picked up the device.

"Jedi Knight Terain, erm, this isn't Master Skywalker. He's unavailable at the moment." I paused, realizing what that must sound like. "I'm a friend. Long story. Anyhow, could I, uhm, take a message?"

"We… we j-just received c-c-c-confirmation that J-Jedi Knight M-Mara Jade's Star Cruiser was … it was … destroyed. In the attacks on the Outer Rim."

I switched the comlink off, dropping it to the bed. It bounced once, twice, eventually laying still on the bedspread. Not now.

It was cold in Luke and his former wife's apartment in the temple, and I pulled a blanket up off the bed, draping it over his shoulders. I was chilly, too, having run out of the apartment so fast I had forgotten a jacket, so I looked around cautiously, searching for another blanket. The only one I could see was stacked under a pile of small, fitted tunics that had certainly belonged to Mara, and Luke looked at me as I stood there, as if to make sure I didn't disturb anything. I didn't. Leave the dead to the dead.

However, in a bit of an attempt to warm myself, I decided a cup of tea would be excellent.

"Luke? Do you have a tea set?"

He murmured something indistinct. Spotting a small, rose-covered pot and two cups on the kitchen counter, I reached for them.

"No!"

I startled, looking at him.

"That was Mara's," he said protectively, sullenly. I retracted my hand, my mouth forming into a silent 'O'. "Look in the cabinet."

There I was able to find another two mugs and a small box of tea leaves, and I put the kettle on the stove, careful not to touch anything else, although Luke was certainly no longer watching – he had returned to nesting his chin in his palms and staring out over the sprawling horizon of Coruscant.

"Here, drink this," I insisted, pushing the cup into his hand a few minutes later. He looked at it disinterestedly. "Drink," I commanded, wrapping my hands around my own little mug and settling back down next to him. _'Just take your time'_.

A few days later the Temple had a memorial service for Mara. Luke hardly made it through, and it tore me up emotionally to have to see him like this. For those few days, it was as if our falling out had never happened. It was as if it were those years ago when we were friends. Friends who were with each other through thick and thin.

I didn't know what would happen when Luke's grieving ended. It was possible that he would be angry with me, and I was slowly harboring bitter feelings towards him. In my heart of hearts, I knew it was Mara's fault that he hadn't contacted me. I cursed him for not being stronger, but very rarely can you give entirely of yourself without extreme personal expense.

What would come to pass in the next few months would be difficult to foresee.


	7. Inside

**Dealer**

**Chapter 7a: Inside**

Leia Organa Solo, pressed for time as per usual, managed to show up later to brunch than her guest. Her brother didn't seem to mind though, and had made himself comfortable on her living room couch, reading a data pad that had been on the end table.

"Luke!" she said happily, walking into the room.

"Leia!" he replied, standing up so they could exchange embraces. "I suppose you still haven't given any thought to adopting a new hairstyle?"

"Har, har," she said dryly, patting the bun on the left side of her head protectively as they moved into the quiet dining room. With the children all dorming at the temple, and Han away for several days, it was a bit _too_ quiet for the Senator who was used to being surrounded by people. She appreciated Luke's company. "Threepio, would you please bring us our first course!" She called into the apartment.

"Oh, oh, I'm already on it Miss Leia!" a stressed, nasal voice bustled. A moment later there was a metallic clanking as the protocol droid shuffled into the room, two small soup bowls clattering unsteadily upon the tray the gold-toned machine held in his hands. Leia thanked Threepio and he retreated back into the kitchen, pleased with himself.

"So, how was your morning at the Senate?" Luke asked, picking up his spoon and dipping it into the piping hot liquid. Leia sighed.

"Stressful," she said, rolling her eyes as she doctored up her own dish with spices. "Hearings and debate all day! Would you believe that the Senate is trying to give themselves a raise? It's ridiculous. We already have an open expense account, and our salary is good to begin with." She blew through her lips, exasperated. "Of course it will pass. They're talking about calling a late-night session. After we're done here I need to go to Mon's office and talk to her about it. There must be something we can do." She shook her head, frustrated. Somebody as calm and collected as Leia didn't mesh very well with the hot-headed, often violent debates of some of the outer galaxy representatives. "How are things going at the temple? Are Jacen and Jaina doing well?"

"Oh, everything is going smoothly as usual. I've been working with some of the younglings…" Here Luke sighed. "It helps take my mind off… things."

Leia nodded sympathetically. She had never approved of Luke's wife, much less liked her, but the death of Mara had hit her sheltered brother exceptionally hard.

"Jacen and Jaina are doing exceptionally well. They're excited to be getting ready to become apprentices to some of the older knights, I think."

"And Anakin?" Leia pressed, concerned about her youngest son. She still somewhat doubted that he had been ready to leave her as soon as he did.

"He's doing fine. He gets along so well with all of the other younglings. He certainly is your son." Luke chucked. "I think he may be a bit homesick—"

"Oh, I knew it! He wasn't old enough! I should just bring him home—"

Luke glared at her, cutting her off again.

"But I assured him that my door is always open if he ever feels lonely. He's enjoying himself, Leia. I do think a visit from you might do him some good."

"I'll stop by tomorrow," Leia decided out loud, regardless of what may be on her schedule. Luke smiled at his sister. "And how are **you**?"

The Jedi pulled his shoulders into a shrug.

"I'm ok." Leia looked at her brother across the table with soft eyes. "Really, I am."

"I'm just concerned for you…" Leia said gently, ladling her soup into the air and letting it cascade back into the pool below. "How about in the romance arena?"

"Leia, my wife is dead," Luke said moodily, averting his eyes to his dish.

"That's not what I'm talking about."

Luke picked up his head.

"Then what are you talking about?" he said, tipping his head at her. She mirrored his motion, mimicking him. He opened his mouth in thought. "The love of my life is dead."

Leia shook her head vigorously.

"No, she's not."

"Leia, Mara Jade's star cruiser was destroyed in the outer rim."

Leia looked at her brother seriously, setting her spoon down on the plate beneath the soup bowl.

"Mara Jade was not the love of your life." Luke opened his mouth in protest, but Leia cut him off. "You may not want to hear this Luke, but she was a nasty person. She had her own agenda and she used you. That's it."

"Then who in the damned Force are you talking about?"

Leia sighed, picking up her water goblet and drawing from it. Across the table, several fleeting memories played across her twin's mind.

_A young man pushing a deposit for a speeder across a counter. That same man navigating through the sky of Coruscant, a dark-haired young woman hanging onto his waist. Both of them throwing back FireDancers in Luke's favorite bar. The irresistible pull of his lips of hers. A man and a woman, older now, one in fomal wear and the other in a pretty bridesmaid dress, dancing across the floor, out of place but…_

Luke's eyes snapped open. Leia looked at him, smiling a bit sadly.

"You know who I'm talking about. You love her." Leia sighed. "You always have."

Luke shut his eyes hard, shaking his head vigorously before looking squarely at his sister.

"No. No, no."

Leia looked at him and nodded slightly.

"Yes. You know it. You know it; I know it. Han knows it; Kierii knows it; she knows it."

"No, I can't. Anyhow, it's not the Jedi way. Jedi don't form attachments."

"_What_?" Leia asked, bewildered.

"We're reverting to the old code. Attachment is forbidden. Possession is forbidden," he recited dully.

"You were married," Leia, said pointedly, looking at him with her eyebrows raised. "You certainly had attachments."

"Yes, and look where that got me!" Luke snapped, growing frustrated. "Attachment was forbidden. I can see why now. That's what we're going back to. That's what worked."

Leia looked at him, reaching into the long pockets of her Senatorial robes. She slowly pulled out her lightsaber and laid it on the table.

"You can have that back, then," she said quietly, firmly, standing up and starting to walk away. Luke gaped for a moment, struggling to regain his composure.

"No, Leia, wait!" he called. She looked over her shoulder. His frame had slumped defeatedly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have blown up on you like that."

"No, you shouldn't have," she said firmly. Luke hung his shoulders like an ashamed child. "Talk to her, Luke. I'm your sister; I only want what's best for you."

"Alright," Luke sighed in defeat.

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow at the temple."

"Aren't you going to finish your meal, Miss Leia?" a stressed Threepio asked, having just shuffled into the room again.

"No, I need to go speak to the Chancellor. Let Luke have what he wants." She looked at her brother again, her hands on her hips. "Think about it a bit."

And then before the droid or her brother could protest, the Senator had disappeared out the door. Luke sighed, picking up a piece of shurra fruit off the platter Threepio had just placed in front of him. He tossed it in the air, catching it in his hand before biting off a piece.

As usual, Leia had managed to see what he could not.

…

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	8. Outside

**Dealer**

**Chapter 7b: Outside**

All things eventually come to be and slowly fade away. Every event leaves an imprint on a person, on her personality and her mind. The memories might be bright, vivid – those of a child during festival week – they could be invisible, impossible to recall yet implanted deeply in the reaches of the mind – they could be dark, blurred: the memories of death. But time heals all wounds, and in their place leaves scars that tell a story. My past, and my heart, were littered with scars.

I sighed, running my thumb over the faded pink line on my right hand. Despite a cosmetic operation by one of the most skilled medidroids in our sector, the thick skin stubbornly refused to relent its presence. It faded, sure, but it was still there, and it was a constant reminder of the pain in my past.

"Come on Mom," Kierii said, nudging me with her shoulder, her hands buried in the intricate circuit board of a hyperdrive. "You yell at me when I don't do my chores and you can't even keep your mind on your job!"

"Yes, well, when you're thirty-six you can keep your own counsel on what to do, too," I replied, sticking my hands back into the complex breaker of the _Falcon's_ hyperdrive for what seemed like it must be the 1000th time. Why in space Han keeps that hunk of junk around… "And tomorrow you'll only be what, twenty years off the mark?"

She smiled, nodding.

"Well, if you still want to take the day, keep working!"

As I worked, I thought about what Kierii had said. She was right – lately I had trouble focusing.

Kierii had many friends at the Temple, and she loved to go and spend time visiting them. She was, in the end, still a Force-sensitive – she fit in with them, and they meshed. So that afternoon, I took her to the Temple residences on my speeder, and she quickly wished me good-bye before taking off, her back bouncing about as she ran down the hall. I laughed, shaking my head and stuff my hands in my pockets, turning to retreat down the hall.

"Oh, hello, Senator," I said, startled as I turned around and nearly bumped into Leia Organa Solo. The woman looked at me exasperatedly, hands on her hips.

"Oh, for Force's sake, I've told you to call me Leia!" she insisted, shaking her head. "How are you? What brings you to the Temple?"

"Oh, I can't complain." _Yeah, right._ "Kierii came to spend the night with some of her friends. Her birthday is tomorrow, so I suppose they're throwing her a bit of a party in the residence quarters." I paused. "What are you doing here?"

Leia twirled a section of metal around in her hand, one that I had neglected to notice until that moment.

"Well, I've been doing some saber training because security keeps insisting it would be much safer for me to have some method of self-defense, since I am a Force-sensitive, and then I stopped by to visit Anakin and Jacen in the boy's quarters," she said, pocketing her weapon with a shrug. "I'm heading back to the Senatorial Apartments now though. Would you like to stop by and have some tea?"

"Oh, no, I really need to be getting back to the shop…"

"Oh, relax! It's only a block from here anyway, I'll have you on your way in a standard hour, that's a promise."

"No, I really should—"

"Great! It's settled then."

I sighed defeatedly. Damn these politicians.

And that is how I came to be sitting in the Solo household, nursing a cup of sweet Ansionian tea, Leia talking happily across from me. The dull beams of afternoon light sparkled through the vast windows that formed one wall of the apartment, reflecting off the soft colors of the walls and warming the furniture that obstructed its path. It spilled across my lap and down the front of Leia's senatorial robes, bouncing off to illuminate the surroundings. The apartment was quietly devoid of presence, the decorations warm but pristinely cool, a home that had once been lively with children but now housed a quiet lonely couple – or usually, only one half of that duo.

"I heard my husband's hunk of junk is in the shop again," Leia commented with a sigh.

"Yes, there's something wrong with the hyperdrive."

"Oh, I'll be darned if that blasted thing has ever worked while I'm on that ship!" she remarked a bit bitterly. I laughed.

"The Falcon spends more time hogging our hangars than it does in space, I think," I mused. Leia shook her head.

"I wouldn't doubt it. Especially now that Han has his own star cruiser, I don't know why he even keeps that piece of scrap metal around."

"Nostalgia?" I suggested. Leia scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Probably. As if he has nothing better to do than squander funds."

"Well, as long as he's squandering them at my shop it's fine with me! Half our customers must have mentioned Captain Solo referred them when they first showed up."

Leia smirked.

"So have you seen my brother lately?" she asked casually, adding another spoonful of blue milk to her tea. Honestly, she might as well just only drink the milk. I quirked an eyebrow at her, setting my teacup down on my saucer.

"We're on better terms than we were seven months ago, that's for certain."

"Well, I'm not surprised. You're not the only one who didn't like Mara." Leia said her former sister-in-law's name with a touch of distaste on her tongue. I looked down into the clear cup of liquid I was holding in my hands.

"You're so in love, you know that?"

"What?" I asked, snapping my eyes up. She smiled at me, raising her eyebrows. "No, no, no. No, we aren't."

Memories jumped to the front of my mind.

_FireDancers. Kisses. Dances. The nights I cried myself to sleep. Why did I do that if I didn't care about him? Because I was worried about him? Or because I knew…_

"You know it too," she said. I shook my head.

"No," I said, standing up. "Thank you for the tea, senator, but I really need to get going." I set my cup and saucer down on the table and started to walk away.

"Before you go," Leia called after me. I stopped, listening. "Promise me you'll think about it. Just, you know, mull it over."

I laughed a bit. She didn't even need to say it.

After a long afternoon repairing the _Falcon's_ hyperdrive, I was in my pajama pants, curled up on the couch with a data pad that contained a cheesy romance novel I had been working on for quite some time. I was holding a soggy bowl of cereal and a mug of hot liquid, a thick blanket tugged up around my waist as I read the data pad by propping it against my thighs. A moment later, a rapping at the door disrupted me.

I cursed, the data pad tumbling to the floor as I set my cereal bowl down on the coffee table and tugged my blanket over my shoulders, taking a sip from my mug as I walked over to the door. I opened it tiredly. I hated it when people interrupted my personal time.

"Hey." A familiar face was standing in front of me.

"Luke… what are you doing here?" I asked, pulling my blanket further across my chest.

"Well, I know Kierii's at the temple tonight, so I thought maybe you would want to go grab something to eat."

"Oh, I'm really not decent…" I said, motioning to my appearance and running a hand over my messy hair. Then I motioned to the coffee table. "Plus, I already ate."

He laughed.

"Gungan puffs never have, and never will qualify as food."

I shrugged.

"Well, since you're here, can I offer you a drink? It's no short trek from the Temple."

"That would be nice," he said, nodding. I pursed my lips, walking over to the mini bar where an open bottle of Alderaanian whiskey was sitting on the top, part of it being used as a compliment to my hot drink. I set the mug down and dropped my blanket, kicking it into the corner. As I mixed up two drinks, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, trying to retie my unwashed hair into a neater ponytail.

"Well, here's to old friends," I said, handing Luke his glass and clinking mine against it before throwing back half the contents of mine. He spluttered over his.

"Damn, you make a good FireDancer!" he choked, clapping his chest. I laughed.

"Yeah, well, I had a lot of time to perfect it." There was a slight hint of bitterness in my voice, and my words were followed by an awkward silence.

"I really am sorry, you know. About everything. For everything I've done. For every time I've hurt you."

I looked at him sadly.

"Me too."

"Can I ever make that up to you?"

"Did you love her?" I asked abruptly. Luke dropped his eyes away from mine, taking another swig of his drink.

"I—Ye—I-- I don't know," he said defeatedly. "I thought I did. But now, I don't know." He looked at me again, setting his now-empty glass on the table. I ran my tongue over my lips, pulling the last traces of alcohol from them. "Do you love me?"

I startled, looking at him suddenly.

"What?"

"Do you love me?"

I sighed, setting my glass down next to his and shaking my head. Immediately I recognized this feeling.

'_It could never work.'_

I was going to lose him again.

I looked at him, and my eyes must have revealed my thoughts. He stepped towards me, his bright blue eyes watching mine closely, tracking my every move, every thought.

"Why couldn't it work?" he asked with a slight shake of his head.

I paused, my mouth open stupidly, not really sure what to say. _'Because it couldn't.'_

"Because it could," he said quietly, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling my frame towards his, claiming my lips in a breathtaking kiss. My breath caught in my chest, and I closed my eyes, pressing back against his mouth, utterly entranced by his touch.

Maybe he was right.

**. . . We could keep things just the same**

**Leave here the way we came**

**With nothing to lose**

**But I don't want to if you don't want to**

**Never waste another day wondering what you threw away  
Holding me – holding you**

**I don't want to if you don't want to . . .**


End file.
